


No Light, No Light

by albaparthenicevelut



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canon Typical Violence, Controlling Behaviour, Gen, Not A Fix-It, Seriously it's sad folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:30:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albaparthenicevelut/pseuds/albaparthenicevelut
Summary: Prompt courtesy of an anon on Tumblr: RotS AU where Obi-wan is blinded before he can watch the surveillance footage of Anakin kneeling. Inspired by the bit from the novelization quoted in Snark Wars.





	No Light, No Light

One moment Obi Wan is climbing up the wall of the canyon on Boga, the next they are both tumbling through the air. The last thing he sees is the water rushing towards him. Then there is the impact, the burst of white light behind his eyes, and nothing.

The nothing remains long after poor Boga drags his unconscious body from the water, long after he awakens in darkness, the force around him echoing with the deaths of thousands of Jedi. The nothing is his companion when he skulks back into the capital city on Boga’s back and listens to news broadcasts about the Jedi Coup and their eradication. It curls around him as both Republic and Confederacy are “pacified” by the former chancellor and his masked enforcer and seemingly, fellow sith, Lord Vader. It surrounds him when he stows away on a freighter headed for the Core.

Obi Wan shivers in cold ship holds, slipping out at night to steal food. He hones his other senses in those dark holds, especially his ability to feel through the force. Though his head aches constantly and he struggles with dizzy spells and migraines, he manages to move unobtrusively from ship to ship and port to port, slowly making his way to Coruscant.

He meditates during those empty hours, searching for his fellow Jedi in the force and especially for his Anakin. Obi Wan believes in his heart that he would sense it if Anakin had joined the force… and yet he reaches for Anakin and finds nothing but darkness. He frets constantly in those weeks.

In Coruscant, he muffles himself in a thick cloak, shuffling slowly through the city with a stick, playing the part of a blind beggar. It is only barely a ruse. Still, the force is his ally and he makes it to the Temple walls unscathed. It is eerily silent. Armed clone troopers patrol the perimeter. In another life, this would not have been a problem but mired in darkness and clumsy in his new blindness, he stands no chance at infiltration. The Temple is closed to him now. He will have to take another tack.

* * * * * * *

The galaxy is a hostile place for Jedi now. It seems that people are happy to accept Palpatine’s word and inform on any survivors. Every other day seems to bring a new execution, publically broadcast, of a Jedi fugitive. Often, Obi Wan knows their names. He was a Councillor and had been heavily involved in the operations of the Order after all. Despite this, Obi Wan trusts Dex with his life. He has no one else to go to, after all. The besalisk does not disappoint.

Dex greets Obi Wan with open arms and an uncharacteristic amount of shock. Obi Wan reflects somewhat bitterly that the one time he managed to surprise Dex would be when he could no longer enjoy the look on face. Still, it is a relief to be embraced. Dex gives Obi Wan his first full meal in weeks and a safe place to sleep. He offers information and medicine. He offers refuge.

Dex’s genuine grief at Obi Wan’s condition is a balm after weeks of betrayal, loneliness and indifference. His information however is not. It would seem that even the grim picture Obi Wan has managed to piece together from snatches of gossip and news broadcasts are inadequate to the horror of the current situation.

Clone troopers, led by Lord Vader had marched on the Temple and slaughtered every sentient inside down to the younglings. Jedi who had escaped the Temple massacre were gunned down on battlefields by their own troops. Stray survivors were being pursued through the galaxy by squadrons of soldiers and the Emperor’s assassins. Entire worlds where falling to Imperial forces.

Chancellor Palpatine, now the Emperor was tightening his grip on galactic citizens, curtailing civil liberties and crushing opposition. Dissenting voices were falling silent as threats, bribes and violence became the norm. The Hero With No Fear had fallen into the Emperor’s thrall, charming and intimidating the Emperor’s friends, crushing his enemies.

Obi Wan didn’t understand, couldn’t understand; his Anakin support tyranny? He’d always known that Anakin was closer to Palpatine than was good but he’d never thought that he would willingly compromise everything they’d fought for in the man’s name.  
Obi Wan needed more information. Perhaps Anakin could still be reasoned with. Perhaps it was an elaborate ruse. There was only one person who could give him the answers he needed, Padme Amidala.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dex did not want to help Obi Wan get to Padme’s apartment. He argued that Obi Wan should flee Coruscant and even offered to arrange for safe passage to the Outer Rim. Obi Wan would not be swayed. He was useless as a warrior now and everything he’d ever cared for was gone or corrupted. All that was left to him was to piece together what happened and perhaps to turn Anakin back from the destructive path he’d chosen before it was too late.

Dex arranged to have Obi Wan be smuggled into he apartment building with the weekly maintenance crew. He refused to accept Obi Wan’s thanks, simply swept Obi Wan up in another bone crushing hug and asked him to promise to come back. Obi Wan clung on just as tightly but made no promises. He could feel in the force that there would be no coming back from this.

The plan to enter Padme’s apartment went off without a hitch and in very little time, Obi Wan was slipping clumsily into her living room. He was met with the whine of blaster. He threw himself to the side, tripping over a low table, tumbling to the floor and just narrowly avoiding gashing his head open.

“Master Kenobi?” Padme asked. Her voice was blank with shock.

“Senator Amidala,” Obi Wan replied, “it is a pleasure to hear your voice again, though less so to be at the end of your blaster. Could I trouble you for a hand up?”

“Help you up?” Light footsteps approached him and after several awkward moments of waiting, Padme’s small hands found his shoulders, guiding him to his feet.

“You can’t imagine what a relief it is to see you alive, Obi Wan. The world has gone mad.” Padme said. Her hand grasped his face holding it still. He could feel the assessing turn of her thoughts and a growing edge of worry.

“But Obi Wan, what's wrong? I’ve never seen you so look quite this bad.” Obi Wan turned his face away, trying to hide the grief that he knew was plain in his expression.

“The clones, Padme, they turned on me as I was ascending the wall of a Utapuan sinkhole. They blasted me right off the cliff face. I was fortunate enough to land in water but not fortunate enough to avoid injury. I- I cannot see, Padme. I have not been able to since the fall. I don’t believe I ever will again.”

“Obi Wan…” Padme breathed, “I’m so sorry-"

“It is of little matter in the face of everything else. Padme, I came here because of Anakin. You of all people must know- must know what is going on. Why he is supporting the emperor.” Obi Wan said. Padme’s hands tightened on his face.

“Me of all people…” she trailed off.

“So you knew,” she breathed.

“Of course I knew. Anakin was hardly discreet and I knew him very well. I may be blind now but I had fully possession of my faculties back then.” Obi Wan replied. He wanted to pull away, to pace and perhaps release the dreadful bitterness and anxiety that was welling up from within but he didn’t dare. What if he fell in the unfamiliar space? What if he delayed matters and Anakin returned. He was on borrowed time as it was.

“Padme, just tell me. What has happened to Anakin?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Anakin’s voice, low and rough, sounded in the doorway of Padme’s apartment. The dark side roiled out from the place where he stood, curling around Obi Wan sickeningly. Obi Wan shuddered.

So Anakin had fallen. Indeed, he was more than fallen, he felt like a fully-fledged Sith Lord to Obi Wan’s heightened force sense. To Obi Wan’s knowledge there was only one new Sith, Lord Vader. A terrible dread began to grow in Obi Wan’s mind. It could not be. It must not be.

“I had hoped you would survive, my old master. You always were too stubborn to die.” Obi Wan turned towards Anakin’s voice shoving Padme behind him.

“Look at you. So helpless and vulnerable… and afraid… My, my, I thought proper Jedi did not feel fear, my old master. I think we’ve both learned otherwise of late though.” Anakin- no Vader, this was Lord Vader now, prowled closer. The force wrapped around Obi Wan’s throat. He felt himself being lifted off the ground. He gasped for air. How could this be? Anakin had not been a perfect Jedi but this- How had he never seen signs of this?

“Anakin,” he gasped, “Anakin, what have you done?” The world began to grow dim. Somewhere near him, Padme was screaming and sobbing. He clawed desperately at his throat. A large hand touched his forehead.

“Sleep, Obi Wan.” Anakin’s voice was layered with force suggestion. Obi Wan struggled against it. The lack of oxygen, however, was making it increasingly difficult.

“Run, Padme,” he croaked. Vader laughed.

“Go to sleep, old man,” he said, then softer and more compelling, “just let go, you and Padme are perfectly safe. You look so tired. You’ve probably been running yourself ragged trying to stay ahead of the clones and the emperor’s informants. I know what you’re like… Just… relax. I’ve got you now.” And once again, the world slipped away from Obi Wan.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Obi Wan woke to a nothingness even more profound than he’d imagined possible when he’d first lost his vision. He could feel the soft wool blankets underneath him and smell the sharp, sterile scent and chilly air of a ship. 

The force, however, was gone; its absence so profound that Obi Wan could hardly think around it. With it what little sense of the shapes and movements of living beings, their emotions and thoughts, his slight precognition, not to mention his sense of the space around him, had also disappeared. The world spun dizzily around him. He felt totally unmoored and alone. He sobbed helplessly. What fresh hell was this?

A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked up and away, coming within a hairsbreadth of knocking his head on metal struts. The hands caught him and pulled him back. He struggled, gasping frantically. He became conscious of a heavy collar around his neck, a force inhibitor. Oh force, his padawan had put a force inhibitor on him. He reeled caught between nausea, despair and rage.

“Calm down, Obi Wan,” Anakin said. Now that he could hear his voice Obi Wan could recognize that uneven grip, one hand inhumanly strong and hard, the other calloused and strong but still living flesh. Obi Wan swung wildly in the direction of Anakin’s voice, managing to get a few good blows in before he was finally dragged off the soft surface he was lying on and pinned to the floor, arm twisted upwards, Anakin’s knee at his back. He found himself panting and gasping. Hysteria, he realized, though he hadn’t experienced such a thing since he was a padawan.

“Not so cool right now, are you, my former master?” Anakin said. The hand that wasn’t occupied pinning Obi Wan’s arm began to stroke his hair. Cut off from the force, Obi Wan could no longer feel the roiling hatred, fear, and rage that had consumed Anakin’s force presence. Thus, he found himself responding to comfort from that familiar and beloved presence, relaxing by inches into the floor.

Nothing could stop the tears though. All of the grief and fear that had been buffeting the edges of his consciousness had slipped free of his control. Without the force to lean on Obi Wan’s control had slipped away. He cried silently, tears slipping continuously down his face. Anakin manoeuvred Obi Wan into his lap and began to rock them both.

Finally, Obi Wan’s tears slowed. He could feel the rough wool of Anakin’s clothes and the hard bones of his shoulder against his cheek. He could hear Anakin’s voice in his ear, murmuring platitudes. He could feel the tickle of Anakin’s hair against his face. Yet he felt absent from his body, utterly empty.

“Why did you do it, Anakin?” He asked dully. “Why have you killed the Jedi? Even the younglings… Oh force.” Obi Wan gagged, choking on bile. Anakin lifted him off his shoulder, titling him so that he would be leaning over the floor and rubbed his back soothingly.  
“Hush, Obi Wan. Don’t stress yourself unnecessarily. It’s just the sudden force deprivation making you distraught. Your body will get used to it soon and then you’ll feel much better.” Obi Wan gagged miserably again and then subsided. He was reeled back into Anakin’s arms, his forehead resting against Anakin’s neck. The skin there was damp and warm. Obi Wan’s own skin felt clammy and cold. He lay there limply too tired to resist.

“You sent Padme into an early labour with that little visit of yours,” Anakin continued, “don’t worry though. She and the twins are fine. You’re all going away somewhere safe though. Somewhere nobody can hurt you, not even yourselves. We’re all going to be so happy, Obi Wan. We’ll be a real family. You’ll see.”

Obi Wan shivered miserably in his arms. The world swam dizzily around him, unutterably empty and alien. Anakin lifted him up and laid him back down on the soft surface. Blankets were laid over him.

“Sleep, Obi Wan.” Anakin said. And Obi Wan, faced with no better alternatives, slept.


End file.
